Another Night In A Cottage - The Importance of Bliss
by Harpy101
Summary: Toward the end of Season 3 John Bates was starting to become more expressive, at least to Anna. It's an interesting turn for this character. Considering his deep history and his passionate nature, how does this development emerge in lovemaking? These are not my characters.


Anna walked home on the winding road, enjoying the moonlight on the fields and the way it shimmered dimly on the trees in the woods. She was walking home. Home to her husband.

Anna stopped for a moment, small stones cracking under her shoes. Tears came as she looked up at the nearly full moon and her heart spilled a little rush of gratitude. She had her own home with the man she wanted. For a time she thought this would never happen, so she had built a safe place inside herself where there were no expectations at all. It was a place of insulation where hope would never be mentioned. This place needed to crumble now, like an old shed. Anna wanted to dive into her happiness, to fearlessly have her life now, and she would. She was determined to. She wiped her eyes, said a little prayer of thanks, and continued to her doorstep.

John smiled at her as she stepped in the door. He was still in trousers but down to his undershirt with a towel over his shoulder, face flushed from washing. He scooped her close and kissed her.

"Hello, wife," he said, "I may never tire of saying that,"

"I won't either," she said. "Hello, my husband,"

"How is Lady Mary?"

Anna hung up her coat and hat and took off her shoes. "It's a healthy pregnancy, the doctor says. Everything proceeding as it should. There's some trepidation, of course, and she's a bit tired of being watched so closely. But that's Lady Mary,"

"Early morning tomorrow," he said. It was still early in the evening for them. But Anna understood his implication and smiled at him.

"Best to bed, then," she grinned. He followed her to the bedroom, patting her bottom to speed her up. She laughed. John took down her hair and then sat on the edge of the bed to watch her undress.

Anna was relieved to be out of her clothes. A small irritation had been bothering her all day; it felt as if she had scratched her left breast, or had been bitten by a midge.

He'd taken off his shoes. "Is something wrong?"

"I've a scratch, I think. Not sure how I got it,"

Anna explored her breast inside her chemise; she couldn't seem to find the scratch or bite or whatever it was. She pulled the chemise over her head and threw it on the chair. Perhaps some sharp fragment had been caught in the fabric. She cupped herself for a moment, moving the fingertips of her other hand in gentle circles, completely forgetting to be self-conscious, and heard a soft intake of breath. When she looked up John was watching her. Anna flushed, watching his expression; he had became very serious, even a little unsettled. Anna went back to exploring herself, tenderly and more thoroughly, as if he wasn't there. Then she looked up at him again. He was rapt, nearly hypnotized, mouth slightly open, the color deepening in his cheeks. Anna moved one hand down her belly slowly into her knickers and heard him breathing in and out. Anna moved her hand down still further.

"Anna," he nearly choked her name.

Anna hadn't had much occasion to discover herself this way. She had spent her years at home in bedrooms with her sisters and even baby brothers, and then at Downton she only had a room to herself for brief periods of time. She was not completely ignorant of her body, but this was new territory and she had all the feelings that went with it: self-consciousness, a bit of fear, exhilaration and a sense of helpless desire, the _need,_ to have it.

She dropped the knickers and slipped her fingers down and down until they met with a light veil of dew, a sweet slipperiness which she played with now, her heart pounding.

"Come here," his voice had deepened to a growl. Anna wouldn't move, wanting to extend the deliciousness of the moment. His eyes had gone dark as a stalking cat's.

He stood, wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her to him; he sat again on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. She braced her hands on his shoulders for a moment to steady herself as she straddled his thighs.

He took her hand and returned it to its former occupation, keeping his arm around the small of her back. He drew her close enough to kiss her throat, going lower and taking her in his mouth. Anna cooed, moving her hand on herself. His other hand joined hers there and he gave a shuddering sigh when his fingertips dipped in moisture; his long fingers circled very lightly, then slipped deeper and then deeper while his tongue and lips became more and more insistent.

Anna was home now in this little cosmos they were making together, a world as pure as a wide field under a clear sky, a a world of pleasing and being pleased, of pleasure and being pleasured, a pure world of only _them. _She stroked herself, surged onto his fingers, pushed on his shoulder to twist her torso to his mouth, and tumbled into exaltation with a series of cries like a dying bird. When she paused to breathe he was already lying down and pulling her with him and Anna could not bear slow undressing now. She grappled at his trousers, unleashed him and threw herself onto him, once again falling into raw joy.

She looked down at John to see his face, simply because it pleased her. His fair, clear forehead and level jet brows, his straight nose, his fiery eyes, the seductive boyish curve of his cheek, the fine jaw line and that tender mouth she loved, all pleased her. His expression bordered on ferocious, teeth set and eyes burning into her. Anna leaned down, pushing his undershirt up over his chest so she could feel his skin and silky hair on her chest and her belly and rub herself in it like a greedy animal. They were animals together. She found a motion that touched her everywhere she wanted inside and followed it. He expanded as she plunged onto him and finally gave his hoarse cry with hers, his body curling up to her, his hands gripping her hips. Even after they had stopped there were animal sounds, deep forest sounds, then the rushing of breath.

He began stroking her hair. "If I ever knew I could be this happy..." he said.

Anna laughed a sob. "I know," she said, kissing him over and over. After they had quieted he gave a long sigh and said,

"You want an herb garden on the south wall this summer, yes?"

"I'd like to have. My mother grew some things I've always wanted. Mint, chamomile for stomach and for nerves, boneset, some lavender, too,"

"I've ordered flagstones. They'll be delivered early next week. Then you can have walkways and we can have a sitting area to the west side under the tree. On mornings off we can have tea in the garden and I'll read to you,"

"How lovely! But...laying flagstones. Just don't hurt yourself. Promise me you won't,"

"One injury does not make me weak. I can build you a garden,"

"I know how strong you are, you know," said Anna, "Nothing will ever make you weak,"

He held her face, looking up at her; his eyes drank deep from her. They sometimes had these silent conversations when she visited him in prison, conversations through only their eyes. She showed him without words that he was the best man she had ever met, the one man she admired most, the man she wanted. Beneath the military bearing, the hard courage and the dignity of his station John smouldered with feeling. His compassion, his temper, his occasional impulsiveness, even his innocence in some ways were all fed by that deep fire that had drawn her to him, drawn her irresistibly. She was still in thrall of him and always would be. Now she saw again what it meant to him - to see himself in her eyes.

"By the way," he said, "Any time you have...a scratch..."

Anna giggled. "I will show you," she said. "But I'll stand farther away, just to make you watch me longer,"

He groaned. "Anyway, let me see it. Does it hurt?"

"I don't think so,"

He rolled on his side, bringing her down beside him, one arm around her back. He very gently cupped her, fingers stroking every inch, and lingering where her body tightened and responded with a feathery light touch. Anna was surprised to feel herself being brought into that state again so quickly, that need for more of his attentions. He pursued her pleasure with the patience of a painter, trying every stroke possible, and soon she was trembling again and making little begging sounds. He tasted her, trading his fingers for his tongue, then kissing her mouth, then lower again, deliberately tantalizing her. Anna was hit by a sudden release, clinging to him. He waited for her to finish, then he was moving down, kissing her belly

Anna was still tingling. She reached to put a hand on his cheek.

"Stop, stop," she said.

He looked up at her. A shock of dark hair fell in a curl over his forehead and she saw a flash of impatience. She suddenly glimpsed a different version of him, a younger and more unstable version, which passed over his features like a cloud over the sun. Beautiful, it had to be said. Beautiful, but more impulsive. This vision was not her John, but John before life had tempered him.

"Stop for now," she said, but he was covering the lower edge of her belly with wet kisses.

"For now," he said, running a fingertip up to her belly button and then down, then back and forth on the very lower edge of her belly. It was maddeningly enticing.

"One more," he murmured.

Anna sat up. "I can't!"

"You can,"

He tugged on her hips, throwing her on her back again. He reached down and took one of her feet in his hand, holding her toes. "Your toes are curled," he said. He cupped his hand around her leg, moving up, until he was gripping her thigh, "You're still trembling here. Like a little colt," He reached and put the flat of his hand over her breast. "Your heart is pounding, Anna," He held her cheek and stroked his thumb over her lower lip, "Your lips are swollen, your eyes are still wild. Your body wants more, and I can give it to you," he lowered his mouth and said lovingly against her skin, "I can tend this little pearl," He shook her lightly in his arms, "Your body is _calling_ me for it. Will you keep this from me when I know I can get even one more drop from you, one more sigh, one more little sound?"

"What's happened to you?" she asked, with some humor, but she was a bit shocked by this revelation. Though John had become more expressive than ever lately, he had never talked to her like this before.

"I'm your husband," he said. "It means more than love and honor and standing by you. It means pleasing you,"

Anna stroked his cheek. "You please me in so many ways I can't describe them all to you,"

"But you don't even know them all yet. You are just beginning,"

Anna flushed. "Yes, I know..."

"Then, let me find them with you. Here, like this, you and me," he was speaking with that passion again, "Let me search for every way to please you," his earnestness moved her. She traced his face lovingly.

"This is coercion," she said.

"That," he said, "Is true. And I will answer for it,"

There was a moment of taut silence. Anna took a breath to speak. He dipped his head.

He began very delicately each time, gradually finding where her pleasure happened to be at the moment, then pursued the very motion, the exact touch that brought it on. Over and over, without wasted motion he stroked, flicked, tickled, sipped, drew on her until Anna had hit the pinnacle of sensation again and again; for an almost nightmarish moment it seemed she would be caught in a realm of blinding ecstasy and never get home. She was nearly weeping from it when he stopped.

Anna was shaking. He had been right, she was able to feel more – much, much more. But now she was completely exposed, shattered, her nerves vibrating, her muscles exhausted. She needed protection, she needed hard, hard sleep. Suddenly, and now.

How could he know? But he did; he pulled her into his arms, wrapped covers around her and lay still while she sank into the deepest sleep of her life.

Anna woke. She felt she had been asleep for hours, but when she looked up she saw the lamp still burning and John adoring her with his gaze.

"How long did I sleep?"

"Just a little while," he said, "Do you forgive me?"

Anna thought about it, then started laughing. Her mind was reeling. She had not known about these things. But, yes.

"Yes," she said, still laughing, "I forgive you. But you did push me,"

"Your bliss, in this marriage, is my responsibility," he said.

Anna thought about this for a while. "We could have been doing this for years," she said, "I wanted to ask you and never did...why didn't you want me to be your mistress?"

He took his time now, to think it over. Then he spoke slowly. "It's about the agreement we forged, together. Your bliss is not at my whim. I'm the...I'm the steward of it. You've agreed and trusted me to be your lover for a lifetime. A woman's bliss is a sacred thing. Everything follows from that. It's- I believe it's natural law,"

"Natural law," mused Anna, "How do you mean?"

"I met many people in Africa, not just other soldiers. There were Hindus in Africa, come from India. To them, marriage is a sacred spiritual union, even more so than in the church. And to the Zulu, the most fearsome warriors in the world, the greatest power belongs to the rain queens. When I saw the wilds of Africa around me I began to believe that nature makes decisions by or through the female. Did you know that elephants follow the eldest female? That the lioness does nearly all the hunting? In nature, all follows from the female. It makes sense to me that since all life and all pleasure start with the female, that her pleasure is most important,"

"And what about a man's bliss?"

"His bliss is a given, if he has married the right woman. A man is like a drum, simple. A woman is like a violin. Your happiness is more complex than mine,"

"So then," Anna followed his point, "What is my part in this responsibility...as a wife?"

"To be direct with me. How can a drum interpret a violin? Your part is to let me know when you are happy and when you are not happy. And you have always been direct with me. For so long when we were friends you were always fearlessly honest, so I knew I had at least a chance of being a good husband to you. But as my mistress, you would only be guaranteed your pleasure at my temporary discretion and the very thought of that was unacceptable to me. Your happiness is too important to be at anyone's whim,"

"But if as my lover you made it that important-"

"And I want to be your husband," he interrupted her, "I want to be the one you turn to for bliss, for support, for protection, for partnership. I wanted it enough to wait and tell the rest of the world that I will be that to you, for my lifetime. That's what I wanted to be, and nothing less. It was worth waiting for. I wanted us to be linked together for life. To belong to each other. I thought...I thought we both deserved that,"

Anna's tears came cool and gentle.

"And nothing less," she said.


End file.
